


Only when night falls| Yoonmin

by miniblues



Category: ARMY - Fandom, Calicos - Fandom, bts, bxb - Fandom, yoonmin - Fandom
Genre: Bts army - Freeform, M/M, Yoongi - Freeform, bts - Freeform, bxb - Freeform, calico, jimin - Freeform, minmin, yoonmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniblues/pseuds/miniblues
Summary: ❛ sunrises seemed to burn the skin of these graves dressed in lying lilies and bloody roses. These lands have learns to despise day as much as it learns to speak every word it doesnt meanBecause darling we only learn to love,Only when night falls ❜
Relationships: Min Yoongi/Park Jimin, Yoonmin - Relationship, minmin - Relationship





	Only when night falls| Yoonmin

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @Mini_Potato_Luna for beta reading this chapter. 
> 
> So yeah, im back with another fanfic again lol. Moving out of my comfort zone was hard but yep, i took the risk.
> 
> I was in love with Anson Seabra's “Robinhood” and i think it kind of influenced the story. Check it out! I posted the link below.

[http://youtu.be/VVkVGczOXWA](https://youtu.be/VVkVGczOXWA)

Chap I, _Stars nowhere._

'

  
Yoongi _despised_ the same shit show every _morning_.

It was the same tiring rush of fast footsteps covering wooden floors and the constant screech of metal chairs and tables. The foul smell of the snow melting on the windows after the skies raged in cold last night was mixing with the constant smell of sweat and burning meat from the kitchen. Wiping down tables after tables, the bells hanged by the door sounds like his usual working song.

Yoongi hated this scenario.

"How you doin Yoongles." Chul entered in a huff, flopping at the chair. the old man was a usual customer, one working at his boss's water station.The mint haired boy rushed to his side, bringing out his worn down notepad.

"Too tired to function." Yoongi replied, earning a deep chuckle from the other, "But we gotta stay alive and eat you know."

Chul brought out his precious leather pouch that looks like a hundred year old heirloom, spilling out a few paper bills that sadly is his salary in a day of work.

"Well thats the motto in here Kid, Stay alive. the clowns up there are trying so hard to mess it up though."

And then Chul let out his daily curses of complains, while the boy is just laughing at him from behind. the old man kept babbling incoherently about how the air conditioner is broken again and how his constant backache is gonna be the death of him, Yoongi would love to listen to his complaints, but the place is piling up with newcomers, he bid him goodbye which the old man only replied with a groan.

Mornings are so fucked up.

These cycles are draining the shit out of his mental state, got no choice with every breath, but to again Stay Alive. His head is pounding, pleading for a 30 minute sleep, though he cant really sleep the bills coming by the end of the month.

The putrid smell of the kitchen lingers even at a roughly 5 feet distance, he never really paid attention to Hoseok babbling about how storms went through the kitchen and left it in that state, the walls had huge gray spots left by peeling paint. The dishes are piled up in a tower as Hobi washes them in an almost blank manner.

He carefully placed the tray to the side, clearing his throat to gain the latter's attention and waited for him to speak. But the silence accompanying the broken tap from the sink was a bit surprising especially when he's in the room with someone like Hoseok. Yoongi decided to finally break the ice, the thing that doesnt really know how to do, because this guy would always be the first to bug him.

"Hey."

Hoseok pulled out of his trance and stared at him, enough for Yoongi to see how worse the guy had been. Hoseok would always be presentable whenever, whatever situation you put him through, even if he's hidden in the shitty kitchen, washing dishes. His t-shirt would always be nice and ironed, and his hair would be gelled in a way Yoongi always teased him about. But today, it seems that he collided with the storm on the way, his eyes screams sleeplessly, and his usual yellow shirt looks like a train passed by on it.

Hoseok lowered his gaze, "uh hey Yoongs," he scratched the back of his head "Is.. it packed up out there?"

Yoongi tried not to mention how the red haired dude looks problematic right now, but it just slipped off his tongue before he could catch it.

"God, What happened to you Hoseok?"

The regret slapped him afterwards when the guy shifted off uncomfortably by the sink.

"Mom.." Hoseok tried to hold in a breath, "she's getting sicker and sicker each day. Our savings ran out. I still need to save about Dad's bail—

He stopped talking and choked on his words, tears swelling his eyes. He fought the urge to look at him with pity, because He knows Hoseok needs more than that. He doesnt need to be looked at hopelessly. He deserves much more.

Hoseok deserves a life out of this dump. His mother fell ill when he was on highschool causing the boy to withdraw on his dreams to dance. Not long after, his father was accused of robbery at a nearby pawn. The life he had is the life that never suits him. And Yoongi just wishes he could do something, but they were both here, stuck in mud.

This is why Yoongi had learned to despise mornings.

He can see clearly on the narrowed roads on his way home, children becoming pick-pockets as they starved and survived on the streets. The first time they saw the light of day was the first day of survival.What is good? What is evil? It seems like those words never exists in this place, Hunger is even much more unbearable than being promised of your soul burning in the afterlife.

One thing Yoongi learned in the streets, the willingness to have just a bite of bread is stronger than any laws there is to exist.

Yoongi hates mornings because he can see on how shit this place have been, he can see the tears in Hoseok's eyes that he wishes he could wipe away. When mornings came, thats where the real shit show is happening. A game of survival.

The game they can never win unless bastards running the rules hit their heads.

The customers lie lowed when afternoon struck by, the streets deserted by the strong heat of the sun thawing down the snow along the diner's path. He pulled the enormous garbage bag by his side, almost covering his frame. This reminds him of all the exercise he ignored for sleep. Well, he doesnt even feel the slightest bit of regret.

He walked over a nearby alley where a "soon to rise" poster was pasted off the closed shops. Minyoung-noona waved at him from the water station, she must be too caught up on the deliveries as she peeks her head out on the window, muttering something of ‘ _throw our trash too’_ in which he replied with a big no. Yoongi sighed, the bastards are eating this whole town up, etching their name all over it. He looked over the run down diner and water station, where many people like him who chose to work legally depend their life from. It was one of the few remaining jobs in these town, where a lot already chose to sell drugs and souls to be able to breathe.

He managed to hurl the huge bag up to the garbage, noticing the children simply waiting for him to leave to raid on the bag of leftovers. He shook his head and pointed at them, patiently waiting.

"Do not eat this, " he turned at the bag " its spoiled and flies lived at it for some time." He opens his small wallet, getting a few coins " Buy a biscuit or something, just not this one. "

"Thank you sir." Their eyes smiled in crescents, a faint blush painting their cheeks. They all ran to the sidewalk, bidding him goodbye.   
These children could change the world in their palms if given a chance, thats why the clowns kept burning their dreams. What a life it is indeed.

"What an angel." Someone spoked to him from behind, a ravenette stand by the diner's backdoor, his beard he'd been growing for what looks like 1892 is catching the little ashes from his cigarette stick.

"Oh shut up Jaehyun." Yoongi chuckled, he was never really a fan of honorifics even though the man was older and he was his boss. Jaehyun owns the water station and Diner, used to be a part of a gang from somewhere north, but he was shot on the knee during a raid, and now lives his life on crutches. He quit the gang, not only because he cant perform efficiently like before, but also because he got a somewhat according to him, change of heart.

"I was pertaining to the children, c'mon dont be too assuming Yoongles." He drew another smoke at the cigarette stick, offering one to Yoongi in which the younger took immediately.

"Jungkook came looking for you here, boy just got off school and was roaming around in his uniform. Told him you went soul searching."

Yoongi rolled his eyes, "Can you please tell me he atleast punched you in the gut."

Jaehyun laughed heartily, ending up coughing as he chokes on cigarette smoke. " He actually kicked me, i swear to god Yoongles, one of these days im gonna hit your brother in the head with one of these crutches."

The mint haired boy grinned, the air suddenly lingered out of words as they both drew in smoke, leaving the atmosphere in the small giggles of the street children playing tag. Jaehyun finished his cigar, looking around the alleys. He noticed the afternoon passed quickly after a small chitchat, the temperature dropping in a bearable heat. A flock of birds passed by the bleeding sky, running over clouds before disappearing into thin air. The moon is vaguely showing, and the sun is turning into a much more rich orange shade.

Jaehyun turned to him again, his demeanor changing to a less expressive tone.

"I assume you know about Hoseok already."

Yoongi looked away, "hmm. 's tough holding up you know."

"Yeah. Kid lost a father because of the clowns's shit, now fate is taking his mother away from him."

He nodded, its tough shit for Hoseok, he's not very religious but he wishes God will get him out of here, out of this place.

Because Hoseok is a dreamer, and this place, is not meant for someone like him. Its not emerald city nor Narnia. This is the place ignored by children's books and disney movies.

" 's fucked up. Everything is fucked up. This town could die on its own for all i care, but the people in here, the people in here deserves better." Jaehyun brought his gaze down, looking at his mud soaked shoes.

Yoongi leaned by the moss covered wall, the air seemed to circulate through his airways getting rid of the fresh smoke. "Can we still dream for better years in this place jae?"

The old man was taken aback, before laughing loudly his stiff body frame seemed to move.

"Dreams do die in circuses i guess."

'

Chasing fading lights across the town's boulevard feels like a blurry dream for Yoongi. His bicycle travels in a normal pace, as the air accompanying his pedals hums a breeze. For it was probably a product of having such insipid imagination before, but Yoongi used to dream hopefully about this town. His mother would always tell him stories on how this place resembled disneyland, and he had learned to look at it on a positive perspective. Well shit, look where it brought him.

This place is just a dump site for Seoul, hidden on the outskirts, where the leftovers of the city are found. The government is just run for profit and oppressors can roam around in billboards almost with a red cape on their backs called a hero. Rebellion? Not really. The clowns up there knows how this shit works, how can a dead man even fight for his rights?

This place, is raising generations of the oppressed, labeling them as criminals.

How bad this world could be?

Yoongi turned to a small peach painted apartment, getting off the bicycle and walking it til it reaches the houses's backyard, the grassy lawn seemed to be untended for a thousand years. he rang the bike's bell to notify the guy of his presence, unless he wanted to be shot where he stood, which is a certain possibility.

Namjoon rushed to open the gates, his clothes all disheveled and he looks like he just got laid. He fixes his white tee shirt and dusts off his pajamas. His scorpion tattoo glistened under the moonlight, showing out of his v-neck shirt. It could be a good fashion ramp if only he didnt trip on the small staircase.

"Looks like someone just got laid." Yoongi chuckled in a tease.

"Needs." Namjoon replied. "Jeez Yoongi you look like you traveled in here through tornado."

Yoongi raised a middle finger before laughing, "Misoo-ahjumma is here? "

Namjoon shook his head, "nope, she told me she took an overtime on the water station."

"Thats why you can play around."

"Dont you ever tell her fucker."

Namjoon could be all fierce with his tattoos and words, but the fucker is a softie for crabs. He is Yoongi's childhood friend, one of the nerds in his class who the mint haired boy happens to find comfortable to talk to. Plus that his Mom makes the best japchae in town.

"Yoongi," Namjoon started, "your work is stressing the shit out of you man. Why dont you consider my offer in joining a gang?"

One thing unexpected about this crab lover nerd, he's part of a gang. One of the many who decided to go on illegal stuff to survive. You could not really say it at one look at him, but he cant really blame the guy. Namjoon wants the best for her mother, being the only family he ever had.

Yoongi gets off with his usual answer, "nah, im good with diners man."

He proceeds on walking in the darkened streets that seemed to have broken street lamps as displays on them. He hums a slightly off tune, looking over the skies painted in rich black.

Can he,

Can he ever wish in a place where no stars seemed to fall?

His father is passed out on the couch, sleeping soundly. He looks like he was m

tired to get off the Market's apron, as he lays in there exhausted. Yoongi walked over Jungkook's school shoes scattered across the floor, the younger will surely get an hour of scolding later. He looks over his old man, before putting the pillow and blanket above him to get him comfortable. It was his mother's last wish, to take care of his Appa and Jungkook. A wish he swore to the universe he would do, even crawling hell and back for them. If stars could fall in this place, he would dream, only for them.

Because having the ability to freely dream, he would imagine them, living the life he promised his mother he would give.

Yoongi looks over the envelopes littering the coffee table, before grabbing them up and heading up stairs.He sat over his bed that smells in need of laundry, before turning on the room's lights. It was his father's recent check up, and his tuberculosis, is not doing very well. Along are the bills for these month, wishing him a goodnight sleep.

The wallclock is too loud, the night too silent. He lays down silently under the comfort of his own blankets, dreamlessly. His eyes are getting warmer in fighting the cold, as he shuts them, along with his tears. Its always like this when darkness just decides to screw over light, maybe because of tiredness? Or maybe he's just weirdly emotional when he's alone. The night understands one broken soul, in fact the night seems to love one.

"Fuck this tears." He groaned trying to drown in his pillow.

Because its only when night falls that he can be this vulnerable.

Jimin hates having to get up this early.

The sunlight kissing his cheeks would not suffice on how his mood is doing. If only it wasnt mandatory, he would still be in the comfort of his room, with a stranger from last night's getaways. But here he is, sitting at the back of his father's Mercedes, being pushed to enjoy the day as the skies are perfectly clear. He leans at the tinted windows, looking at the different buildings passing by of early morning Seoul.

"Can you please shut that off Tae?" He rolls his eyes annoyed as his Family's head security (becoming his friend and for today's driver) was head bumping to some pop music on the radio track.

Taehyung just smiled at him sweetly teasing, "Its too early to be in a bad mood Chim."

"Exactly!" He replied.

Jimin just wants to close his eyes as he walks through blinding camera flashes passing through curious bees trying to get something out of him. He lived half of his life written on their articles, and even his breaths are news for people. They were all crowding at him, used to be a bother back then but he was very much okay with it now. He's used to people coming close to him for their own needs, and it was a kind of satisfaction for him when they end up leaving empty-handed, and well sometimes dead if his father likes to.

" jimin can you confirm that you were at the Apollo bar last night? "

"Jimin the gangs from the outskirts started getting bigger, what does your father do to solve this issue?"

He stopped the urge to roll his eyes and spat at them, keeping his gaze low. It was none of their goddamn business, and bitch please he was only the Mayor's son. For all he care with those gangs.

_God how he hates mornings_.

He smiled at his personal bodyguard Hansung, when he offered him his hand so he could pull through the crowd. They were kind of a thing back then, well most of his newly recruited young ambitious security personnels are. Except Taehyung. He squeezed through the people, before pushing in the lift, dusting his coat in a groan. _I need a new coat after this. I reek of bees jeez._

The blond haired carefully sat on one of the gray swivel chairs at the meeting room, trying hard not to bother the people. His father looked at him blankly, as he slowly mutters an apology for being late. The room was heavily guarded, with Taehyung and Hansung standing behind his back. Must be an illegal one.

Behind him is the Vice Mayor that seriously could kiss his ass as he gave off a grin while looking at his neck. He tried to control his middle finger as he averted his gaze focusing on the presentation, its just the usual profit for this month's drug sales and about the rebellion happening on the outskirts. Which on a sidenote, he doesnt care about, as long as it does not affect him.

_Oh please_ , let him live Omelas.

"The sewer rats are getting much more smarter, sending spies here and there. "

Jimin huffed, “is this a fucking movie or what?"

The regret came afterwards when his father glared on his direction, he can hear the asshole chuckling at his side.

"I thought that burning the universities will make them less tactical and shut them off." His father started, playing with a cigarette stick, " news just came in, the Lee family is ambushed last night because of a spy. Information, when you use it to your advantage, can do anything."

Jimin nodded, "sounds like a genius dont you think?"

His father's eyes lit up, squinting "You're right. Only that… they stop being a genius, when they get caught."

The blonde did not even had the time to blink when his father rose from his chair and pulled out a .45 caliber pointing at him. The crowd gasped not from worry he's certain but he bets they're also as surprised as him, the cocky vice mayor is even holding on to his security for dear life. His heart almost leaped out of his chest, not expecting the sudden change of behaviour from his old man. Shit, he knows that he's capricious with anything, but he never knew he was close to being a psychopath. He doesnt even know what triggered him to suddenly pull this stunt!

Jimin knows this life is dangerous the moment Jisung became his Father, he saw Taehyung the only one with a worried look, stepping forward. He raised his eyebrows, signalling him not to come close, til a loud shot filled the silence.

His throat feels ragged and dry as he screamed, his chest heaving and trying to perform his breathing exercise. Behind him, Hansung lay dead, the bullet immediately killing him as it hits his chest. His blood pooled the marbled floors of the room, the crowd died down and went silent, maybe they're also used to this scenario.

"Kang Hansung, of the infamous Scorpion Gang, former Political Science student at one of the universities i burned." His father spoke in a low tone, almost sounding like a recital. He turned to the board again, grinning, "And that is an example of a spy."

Jimin walked the empty halls as if his life wasnt at risk earlier, recovering at his stance. Taehyung tried to talk to him with which he refused, he doesnt need counseling as of the moment. What he needs is a big glass of whiskey and maybe a make out session at the building's comfort room with one of the workers here. Welp.

He checked his reflection and straightened his clothes, before grabbing his bag and proceeding to the parking lot. This morning is getting so much worse when the Vice Mayor went near him, the freaked out face from earlier replaced with his usual smirk. Jimin roll his eyes, _just when he was escaping shit._

"You look stressed honey wanna play?"

Jimin is unimpressed, this guy is shit. "bitch please i would never fuck a rat."

He succeeded on embarrassing the guy the moment the grin was wiped of his face, "But doesnt whores like you live for that?"

Jimin chuckled, "thats the thing. What's funny is that even whores like me doesnt want to fuck you. Shame." He straightened his poise and left the guy burning in his anger.

This morning is just pure shit moulded into Park Jimin's day.

Jimin never wished for any silence or a moment where he could unleash his thoughts, as much as possible, he would escape it. Would you rather stay when you could run? He knows that he kind of shit over the meeting earlier. Well, Home's waiting.

"Dad please! I apologised already." Jimin groaned when one of the security members kicked him in the guts, as he tried to hold on for dear life on one of the coffee tables. Taehyung is not glancing at his direction, as his dad watches from a distance.

"Next time, watch your mouth during one of our meetings. I know filth runs from your blood, but dont spat it out."

His tears suspends from his eyelids, its more of pain than sadness really. He was used to these beatings, used to have purple stars marked up his skin. It was maybe a consequence of having Jisung as his father, to learn from pain. To keep learning.

And that pain always left him speechless, in the silence he kept running away from. In the quarters of his room, thats what his father is good at. Burn him from coal and dress him in diamond. Truly, there's nothing that money cant buy. He smirked remembering Taehyung trying to stop his father from gunpoint, even him. The guy could only save him from death, not from pain. _Tss_.

"Jimin? " A figure peeked from the door, he immediately grabbed his phone and threw it on his direction. Jimin was aching furious, this state would not be the best state to be in the eyes of his step-brother.

"Get the fuck out Jin." Furious, he threw everything near him, a pillow, his bag, til he was left with nothing to suppress his anger into. Chest rising,eyes bloodshot with something of hatred and that glint of weakness. He knows Jin would not be able to see it from the darkness of his room.

"Jimin calm down, i just want to help you." Jin mumbled in a low tone.

The blonde laughed dry, "if you really wanted to help me.. get.the.fuck.out."

Jin stood frozen by the doorway, unmoving. His gaze was dropped on the floor, puzzled not knowing what to do or even say. Jimin sighed, he's too tired to put up with this argument and he clearly needs a break. All this anger pent up in the world, on its people, will be thrown over to this guy if he wont leave. And he disliked that idea.

Jin is... He deserves _better_.

"Just go away." He whispered, almost inaudible but Jin silently grasped it out and began to step out. And there was silence again, messing over his mind.he buried himself over the thick blankets in hopes of peace. Its deadly, the sound lingering is deadly. And its gonna kill him again.

he stood up and grabbed a jacket, pulling it over his bruised shoulders. Its ugly, but those years spent on gaining more of it made it look belonged in his figure. Its like a part of him now. He slipped out of the large halls, almost tip-toeing his way.

Ah, people would always often wonder where Park Jimin will go in his desperate times, mostly between the answers of getting laid on night clubs, or probably drinking his ass off at a nearby party. But here he was, on the edge of the rooftop railing watching the lights of Seoul dominate the whole land that maybe stars feels so out of place. In fact, stars are nowhere. How cruel this place might be.

And there he was, his feet indirectly touching the modern highways where cars seemed to chase their deaths. Well, he got nothing to risk, in fact being on the edge feels so right. His eyes wandered over the night sky, digging deep, dwelling on pitch black, perhaps looking for some magic.

"Eomma," he whispered, "can the stars bring you back _home_?"

And then he stopped.

The stars answered his wish a long time ago. His eomma was _home_. In the place where she could be freely happy, and paint and do all the things she loves. Where she could fulfill her dreams of not being controlled. Jimin smiled, fate did too good on her. For he was left here, just wondering.

He closed his eyes, his arms soothing his body.

Because only right here, can Jimin feels alive. Warm, breathing, and pained. Only here. _Only_ when night _falls._

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear from you! 
> 
> Twitter; JAMLESSZI  
> IG; jamlesszimba


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